Shut Up
by jencenD
Summary: Someone asked a fic based on my drawing. Well, I did it.


Written after someone asked a fic based on my drawing. I thought "why not?" and did this.

Stanley entered the door on his left.

Stanley wanted to admire the employee lounge.

It's incredible Stanley wasn't fired years ago.

Stanley could feel someone following him.

_Stanley__Stanley__StanleyStanleystanleystanley_

Nothing would have rooted better in mind than his name. Not because it followed him during all his life, but because of a talkative entity which had permanently imprinted the name into his mind. Wherever you go, you get the narration of all actions the man with your name does, and also how to become that man with your name.

Stanley was not a chatterbox and did not make a fuss out of nothing. But this storytelling started to get even on his nerves. After some time, when he got told for the twenty ninth time that going to the right is a lie and he understands nothing in making stories, Stanley wondered if the Narrator himself was tired. Indeed, repeating the same words for quite a long time could be an exhausting thing to do.

But, as Stanley later made sure, his vocal companion never got tired that much. There were rare occasions when his voice became wheezy or coughing, and stuttering could be heard even rarer, only during moments of emotional stress.

Then he wondered if the Narrator ever falls silent.

The clerk himself couldn't ask it – he didn't have an idea how to. The Narrator could communicate with him without hesitation everywhere, and there was nothing special needed to connect. However, it didn't work vice versa.

For the seventy first time Stanley got fed by walking around with no purpose, and he went another way – find the voice's owner. Isn't it easier to find someone instead of trying to communicate? Yes, Stanley thought it was easier. And thus he began his crusade.

It seemed that the Narrator guessed correctly where the employee was going, because he got immediately attacked by instructions, objections, exclamations and other verbal garbage. Every door opened unknown to the guide was shutting in that very moment and followed by lamenting how "curiosity kills the cat". The cat, however, rummaged half the building, every time feeling that he's getting close.

He was right.

A normal door, seemingly. It would usually lead to some office, as normal as the door. Stanley pulled the door handle; the door screeched silently and opened. He stopped in, closing the door after him. The most significant difference was absence of a three-digit number. There was no numbers on the walls, on the door, on the file folders, on the table… And on the badge of the man who was sitting at that table. There were fifteen steps between them, but the man already chugged a full glass of water and chattered in a very familiar voice:

"Stanleystanleystanley, what have you done?! That's unnatural, that… that can ruin the game rules, this was never supposed to happen! What have you done there? I'll demand you to come back and get everything back in order or I won't be responsib… Stanley?"

At this moment the distance between them reduced to eight steps, and the Narrator stood up from his place.

"Stanley, I am not joking now. Why were you trying so persistently to find this place? Well, you did it, you certainly did, I congratulate you, I can even find confetti for this occasion. But what for, pray tell?

Three steps.

"If you came to take revenge for something, please mind that I can resist. Maybe I don't have much power as a voice, but not – you see yourself! – I am made of flesh and blood, and I'll try to do everything to make—"

"_Shut up."_

Yes, it was worth going through everything just to tell this to the Narrator. He didn't seem to understand the request fully.

"W-what? You're asking me… It is even worse than the fact you're here! I can't be silent, do you understand that? I am a narrator, this is a job of mine, and if I fall silent for a single second…"

"_Nothing bad will happen"_, Stanley thought at this moment. When his hands, moving by their own, grabbed the opposite man by collar, when these two came face to face to each other, when he felt the unsteady breath really close to his face, - that's when he fully understood what he needed to do.

He didn't shut up after the direct request. Why not try _to_ shut him up?

The Narrator didn't like this situation at all. He tried to object this harassment but was nearly cut off by the other man's mouth. This kiss was fast and spontaneous, but it reached its main goal: when Stanley pulled away, the Narrator's face expressed anything – uncertainty, incomprehension, - but not the ability to talk. After a minute or two he actually managed to get his speech back.

"W-what… What was this about?"

Employee shrugged childly.

"I just wanted you to keep silence for a minute, so I asked you in a friendly way." – This answer must have confused the Narrator even more because he needed a few more minutes to answer.

"You… Next time tell me if you want to ask "in a friendly way". And don't pull my collar. It's all crumpled now, you see that? Who is going to iron my collars?"

The last words were addressed to void; when the talking man looked up, he couldn't see anyone around. For a moment he wondered if this all was a dream; he even touched his lips carefully. Then he sighed and turned his head to the monitors, seeing his ward on one of them.

"Oh well. I'll fall silent for a period of time, if you want it so much."


End file.
